Inevitable
by Fogs of Gray
Summary: It was inevitable. He'd been expecting it for years, but he didn't expect to feel what he did for her. Macon makes a promise while a young Lena is terrified during a thunderstorm.
1. Chapter 1

AN: It's about half of my usual length, but it was done quite quickly. :) Please review, as always! SPOILERS: Beautiful Creatures

DISCLAIMER: Not my characters. :)

* * *

**Inevitable**

The young girl whimpered as another peal of thunder rang through the house. She called out again, curling further into her bed. Her hands clutched at the sheets frantically. A brightness illuminated the room. This time, she couldn't help the screech that escaped her. She pulled the blanket over her face. Excepting the wind and rain that pounded relentlessly against the windows, she heard absolutely nothing. A new sob started in her throat. She was preparing to call again when she caught the faint footfalls of her uncle. She dashed to her bedroom door, her hand slipping on the knob. When she finally opened it, she saw him standing there, a brief concern marring his face. He crouched down to her eye-level, allowing her to hug him tightly. "Where'd you go?" she murmured shakily.

"I had some business that needed my immediate attention." He rubbed her back softly as her breathing stabled. Another crash echoed through the house. Her hands twisted in his suit. He hushed her quietly. "Shhhshhshh...it's okay Lena, I'm here now."

"Will you," she paused for a hiccup of a sob, "stay, please?"

"Of course I will." She buried her face in his neck. She heard him murmur something, and the fear fled from her mind. Her lips pulled into a slight smile. "Now, was the storm the only offender?" She nodded rapidly. With a muted sigh, he stood, still cradling him to his chest. His eyes flicked to the bed. The rustling of sheets gave him away. He laid her down gently before pulling the bed sheets over her. When he turned away, a sound of protest was heard. Without a word, he walked swiftly to the windows and pulled the curtains together.

Her uncle hesitated there. Her green eyes were trained on his back. _Please. Please._ He turned then, and was beside her bed by the time she noticed his absence. She could hardly hear anything. The mattress dipped. A warm body slid in beside her. She closed her eyes and smiled a bit more. The headache she didn't take note of dimmed. The door clicked shut in the background. The rain became a constant beat, although she focused on her uncle's deep breathing. Sleep came easily.

She awoke with a panic. She quickly came to two realizations. Her bed was empty, and the sun was bright in the windows. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, contemplating on whether she would wake her uncle. Her toes curled into thick black fur. A small giggle escaped her. The dog glanced up at her and stood before he licked her hand. She didn't notice the carefully folded letter atop her uncle's pillow.

* * *

He tipped his head back against the cool wall. Anything was cold, now. His skin was aflame. A splitting headache roared through him. It had been one of the worst nights in years. It only lasted an hour in total, but it burned like hell itself had devoured him. He leaned against the wall now, focusing on breathing. He could still hear his niece's elevated breathing, the racing tattoo of her heart. He closed his eyes slightly longer than a blink. _Uncle M!_

She needed him. He wasn't up to moving, let alone climbing flights of stairs to her room. He wasn't perfectly able, but he supposed it was an occupational hazard as her guardian. With a deep breath, he dashed up the stairs.

He didn't Travel. He knew what the Binds would do to him, but even if they did hurt him more, they wouldn't have stopped him. He wanted to be as subtle as possible. If the dull rumble of thunder had scared her, the tear of Traveling would only disenchant her more. He was just up to her room when the door opened a crack. Those green eyes peered back at him. A phantom pang started in his heart. He wasn't her father, but the blatant begging in her irises was enough. He gathered her close and held her as she fell apart.

Macon carried her to her bed, being sure to leave the sheets untucked. _She's claustrophobic in storms. Most likely, she'll hurl herself from the bed in a night terror if you do try and secure her._ He chastised himself. Another flash was coming. He swiftly blocked the window before succumbing to his thoughts. If only for a minute. He could practically hear her thoughts lancing through his mind. He turned just as quickly. The desperation was clear on her face. A conversation with Del was called to mimd. _You're all she has, Macon._ He couldn't agree more in that moment. On an exhale, he Traveled to her bedside. He remembered setting Casts on her room, separately. He'd have to fix the windows with a silencing cast in the morning. For now, he locked the door. He slid under the sheets with her, still clothed in his suit, his eyes slightly bloodshot and hair in disarray. He allowed himself to wrap an arm around her trembling form.

He waited until the storm passed. Until the dawn was nearing and the burn was setting in. He unlocked the door with a glance and slid onto the wooden floor. In the darkness, he could make out his own companion, laying barely outside the door. The dog stood as his master's feet hit the ground. Black eyes met. _Keep her safe when I'm gone. She has a distinct fear of rain and the resulting noise. I...I won't be there for her always. I need you to watch her. For me._ The dog nodded once. A smile twitched on Macon's face. He turned to the bedside table and scrawled a careful note. Once folded and placed, he slipped out of the room, allowing the dog to take his place.

Macon sat in his study, years later. Lena wasn't scared of storms now. He explained to her that she caused the turbulent winds and rain, that her own fear was scaring her. After that, she had harnessed that power relatively easily. The letter had made its way back into his hands, still unopened. He intended to leave it to Lena, when he wasn't there. When he was... _Dead. It's a reality, not a possibility._

He still struggled with the fact he was dying. He couldn't believe that girl with passionately green eyes could be his doom. That no matter how much she _needed_ him, she would be his undoing. He threw back a glass of scotch and closed his eyes. This was it. The last night. The last chance. His heart ached, although he attributed it to what Lena would be once he was gone. He prayed to whatever god there was that she wouldn't fall apart. That the Wate boy would pull her back together. He knew that wasn't an extreme hope, but one he needed to occur. He needed her to move on and for someone else to protect her.

A jingling cut his thoughts off. He pulled a tired small smile as the dog came into view. Their eyes met. Macon stood. _Keep her safe, when I'm gone. I need you to watch out for her, now. She will need you in the next couple weeks._ He kneeled to eye level with Boo. _Thank you. _The dog whined low in his throat and buried his head into Macon's chest. The man chuckled and ran his hands through the thick black fur. _Be good for her, hm? She won't understand what she did for quite some time. You need to be her eyes now._ He stayed there until his wits collected. _Once more unto the breech, old boy? _He stood carefully and pulled a sheet of paper out. He left one more letter, next to the original from nearly a decade ago, snug inside the one novel he never tired of.

* * *

Lena's hand trailed across the books, fingers and eyes searching for the one she hoped would bring her comfort of some kind. She stumbled across it, then. To Kill a Mockingbird. It was her uncle's favorite, at least to her knowledge. He had read it to her many times over the years. The worn spine gave her more insight on her uncle than the man himself had. She settled herself cross-legged on the library floor, book in hand. She leaned her head back, her palm pressed against the cover. Not for the first time, she wondered if she could do this. It would be the first time since...that night. With a deep breath, she opened the novel. Two pieces of parchment greeted her. The book fell from her hands.

Lena slowly plucked the papers from the book, holding them between her fingers, weary. She hesitated before unfolding the first one. A small smile tilted her lips. Her uncle's handwriting scrawled across the page. Her infant smile disappeared when it finally set in. He had known. The entire time, he had known she was going to kill him. Tears started in her eyes, but she didn't wipe them. _I trust you found this letter, Lena. I- _She could imagine him pausing._ I wanted you to know that I love you. I always will, even if I'm not always there beside you. You were quite afraid last night. I'm sorry I left so suddenly, but I overestimated my energy. Sleep well, Lena. _The page was yellowed slightly. She could barely remember that night. She tore open the next one. _You're brilliant, Lena. I should congratulate you on finding these. I am most likely dead, if you are reading this. I should tell you, you were like a daughter to me. I never stopped loving you as I imagine I would, if I had a child. _Tears streaked down her cheeks. _You asked me a few nights ago when you would see me again. I can say that it will be quite a long time, if ever. I want you to know I don't blame you. You couldn't have saved me, Lena. _His hand was shaking while writing this. _Thank you, Lena, for making the right choice._


	2. Chapter 2

A second chapter? Well... *awkwardly runs hand through hair* Yeah. I love this plot and couldn't stay away. I might (*might*) have another chapter somewhere along the road. Maybe not. It depends on the reviews, as always.

Disclaimer: Not mine

Spoilers: Beautiful Creatures...most likely

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Lena flinched as lightning split the sky. Tears streamed down her cheeks. It was stupid. It was childish, especially after the last storm. Her uncle had changed the room's Binds when she wasn't occupying it. She couldn't *hear* it, but somehow that made it worse. Before, she could at least prepare for the thunder. She could focus on the pounding rain. It was silent now, except for her uneven breathing and half-hearted sobs. The room shook with the force of the thunder. She trembled in her bed, her hands twisting the sheets tightly.

She was driven out of her mind, second guessing every possible solution. Mainly though, one answer. She wanted to call Macon. She wanted him to make this go away like he had last time. However, she knew he was gone for the day. She also remembered how he looked last month. It was foggy at best, but she knew it wasn't how he usually acted. _Acted?_ His demeanor wouldn't allow him that, of all things. She closed her eyes, silently wishing for him to come back by some miracle.

* * *

Macon rubbed his face roughly with his palm, holding on to the pin pricking pain of raw skin against stubble. The meeting had gone nowhere. He couldn't keep his thoughts centered on the topic at hand, no matter how much he tried. His thoughts had always found their way to Ravenwood. To his niece he, debatably, should be watching. Which he would have done, had this small...inconvenience not come up. It was 'of the utmost severity' that he attend. Not only be present, as he had his mind to be, but participate. He left before anyone could insult themselves, swiftly enough for them to leave him alone. He needed to know she was okay.

He exhaled slowly, watching the smoke blow into the night air. Normally, his thoughts were racing. He would note every star, every constellation, the phase of the moon, the visibility of the area he frequented. Now, his thoughts were quiet. He missed the clamor that drove him to alcohol every night. He missed Lena, even with all the problems she caused. Briskly straightening his suit, he Traveled.

His arrival was far from composed. He ended up tightly gripping his desk to keep him from falling to the floor. _Blame it on the distance._ His body was practically humming, trembling from the force of him standing. With a steadying breath, he started the trek to Lena's room.

* * *

She was doubting herself. Maybe she should have tried for Boo. Boo was somewhere far away, if she remembered right. One of her cousins? They were all asleep. It would be rude for her to wake them up. Besides, she didn't know if she could walk down the hall at the moment. On an exhale, she threw herself from the bed, and dashed to the door. She could go to his room. She could try to find the Tunnels. She could call him. The doorknob was stiff as she jostled it. Her heart dropped for a second. Locked. Frantically, she tried again, this time swinging the door open harshly to reveal her uncle, his hand raised to knock.

* * *

"Lena-"

"Uncle M-"

She shook her head rapidly, her black curls sticking to her wet cheeks. "I thought you were gone for the day." Confusion flashed across his features. His brow furrowed slightly, and the corner of his lip jumped down for a moment. Instead of answering, he picked her up, carrying her as one does a child.

He laid her down on her bed again, and tucked her in, despite his former observations. This terror seemed to be a lack of stability, not a desperate clutch of tangible figments as the other night had been. Lena's eyes were fixed to him; he could feel her gaze even though he wasn't looking at her. "Are you staying, Uncle M?"

He was torn. If he stayed, he would be condoning this behavior. If he didn't, he would be in his study for the rest of the night. Company, even if unconscious, was far better than solitude at the moment. He nodded once. "I think I will, Lena."

The smile that illuminated her face was stunning. He joined her on the bed, laying himself atop the sheets. He allowed his eyes to close, even though sleep was hardly a possibility. "Uncle M?" He raised a brow in reply. "Have you ever loved someone?" He struggled to not snap his eyes open. He was vaguely aware of his lips moving, but no words were audible.

"Yes." His tone was questionable, even to his tired senses. It sounded as one expected a dying man. The thought shook him. It was a credible thought, one he knew was coming sooner or later, but one that stole the very breath from him. "Yes, I believe I have."

Lena was quiet for a second. The reaction was immediate. "You don't know?"

"I don't know what I felt, Lena. It could have been love." _It also could have been a hallucination, an overreaction to the semblance of affection. No one knows what you feel._ Another harsh thought. _But you do. It felt like love. Ja-_ He couldn't stop the mental flinch. _She was more than willing. _He almost wished for the silence from earlier. "I know that I love you."

A soft giggle left the girl. "But you're my uncle!"

"Precisely, which is why I am entitled to."

She settled again, this time for far longer. He assumed she was asleep when she spoke again. "Like a father?"

He seized the explanation. "Certainly." He cursed under his breath. His voice was off again, inflecting away from his normal stoic attitude. However, Lena didn't seem to care. She was as quiet as before. It worried him. "Lena-" A warm hand shoved over his mouth, stopping him from talking. His eyes flashed open.

"What does it feel like?" His eyes narrowed slightly. "Loving someone like a daughter."

He nipped at her palm to make her move her hand. "There isn't a way to explain it. It's as though your world has a focus, centered around this little girl." He broke off before he said too much. "I suppose that's an adequate explanation." His mind raced past him. _It's like knowing your plummeting and being given a lifeline. Hitting the bottom of hell and the pain dissipating in a single glance. It's like knowing you would move heaven and earth to keep a smile on her face. It's knowing the end is near, and not caring what comes after. It's accepting that you will be the death of me, Lena._ He flinched physically, jarring the thought from perspective.

"I think I love you, too."

His retort was edging on sarcasm, attempting to hide any shaking that had made it to his voice. "But you're my niece."

"I know. But...I think this is like...a daughter and a father?" He glanced over to see her eyes closed. Something fluttered inside him. A daughter. He shut the emotion off before it could get in his head.

He breathed a sigh. "I believe the storm's stopped." He was preparing to roll out of the bed when a hand gripped his elbow.

"Good night, Uncle M."

"Good night, Lena." Unbeknownst to him, a small smile placed itself on her lips.


	3. Chapter 3

I'm back? Why, yes. And I have an end to this supposed to be one-shot. At least, I hope it is. I don't know anymore.

SPOILERS: Beautiful Creatures & Beautiful Darkness

Disclaimer: Not mine

* * *

Lightning flashed through the room, sharply illuminating every surface. The light flashed across carefully stained wood and caught on the wet trails down the young woman's cheeks. A large dog thumped its tail to the rains tattoo. Ghosts of memories flitted through Ravenwood in the twilight. She, the young lass, had heard once from her uncle that if you focused enough 'on the right kind of night, you could hear them.' As a child she grew fascinated with the thought. As a desperate niece she clung to it.

The house was quiet. A storm was raging, but the young woman's cries weren't from fear. They were of a sadness that tore her and a happiness that confused her. He had lived but _he_ had died. She had killed _him_ to save him. A sob scraped up her throat. _He_ had known the entire time. He didn't remember what had happened, only the end. _He_ was gone; wet from mingled raindrops and tears. He was alive; soaked completely through and shivering. It was too soon, too close to the demise she had been expecting, too different. They were right, of course. Half of her family was gone and the other half was broken, but pieced back. Her uncle and her boyfriend. Her past and her future. Her constant and her passion.

She missed him. A shiver ran through her. He had promised to keep her safe during these tempests. She knew it was a long shot. Hell, it was half-crazed. She thought, _hoped_, he would come back. He had during every storm; why would this be any different? She knew the key component that made it unique.

He wasn't there to comfort her. But he _was_, in the corner of her mind, exactly as he had been before. His dark eyes were thoughtful and caring. The faint remnants of a smile were still visible. She heard him as if he was there beside her while she broke apart. "_It's okay, Lena. Close your eyes."_

She followed the request, feeling slightly foolish to be taking orders from a memory. She stayed that way until she felt her resolve waning. It was childish to think something was actually going to happen. Her uncle had lied before. It was certain to happen again. As she was about to open her eyes he spoke again. "_Focus_." She flinched. It was as though he was right next to her. A quick pressure almost started on her shoulder.

She thought of the way his laugh rang even with the few times she had heard it. She traced the creases around his eyes from a time when he smiled more often. She remembered how expertly he had comforted her and how clumsily he accepted her love. A warm touch settled on her shoulder.

Her eyes flashed open, her gasp dying in her throat. Boo broke through the door, his dark eyes on Lena. She pulled him close and cried into his fur.

* * *

The air was thick with drunken slurs and high gasps. She had jumped on John Breed's motorcycle as soon as she could. Ridley and him were somewhere in the bar, in a less crowded part of the building. She was scanning the crowd when she heard her name softly spoken in the background of noise. She ignored the second and third. The fourth call was louder. Her eyes flashed to where the sound came from. Someone bumped into her then, effectively ending the focus. With a roll of her eyes and a swivel to see if Ridley and John were there, she left.

She leaned against the brick. It was colder than she had expected, but she welcomed it. It was quiet outside. The only sound besides her breathing was the music blaring in the bar. She could _almost_ focus. She closed her eyes.

Whoever it was in there didn't know her. It was her mind playing tricks on her again, like the night before. The touch couldn't have been real, but, gods, did it feel enough to pull her down. She huffed. "_Lena."_ Tears pricked at her eyes. "_Lena, don't cry." _She reprimanded herself. She was hearing things again.

_You're not real. _He wasn't there. It was impossible.

"_I'm_ _not_ _dead_."

Lena's eyes tightened. _Bull, Uncle M. I killed you._ She breathed a sigh. _You're in the Gatlin cemetery, as you wanted._

"_I'm not there, Lena." _The touch occurred again, this time almost wiping her tears away. "_I love_ _you."_ She couldn't help replying.

"I love you, too." _Come back to me._

* * *

She was tired. Tired of running. Tired of fate. Tired of _destiny_. At this moment, it doesn't matter how fatigued she is. Her figment was only a few yards away, disheveled and weak. She couldn't bring herself to care. He was _alive_. She felt the blood drain from her face. He looked exactly as she had imagined him, other than the eyes, of course.

She bolted to his side as soon as Abraham disappeared. She hadn't heard a thing since _he_ came into view. He hushed her as she cried. _He's dead. He's dead. _Her common sense knew that to be true. Part of her was skeptical. The majority didn't give a damn. _He's still here._ If he was another imagination, she didn't care. It was too real. He gently touched her cheek, his touch warmed with blood.

* * *

It was a few days after they'd made it back to Ravenwood. She came to the conclusion he was real. He had slept most of the days away. She couldn't blame him. Currently, she was standing in front of the fireplace. She could hear him in the other room, his feet sliding a bit on the floor. She smiled softly. Alive. Something he had never been before, apparently. Boo's head lifted from his prone spot by the fire. He let out a faint bark. The dog's ears turned back slightly. A faint laugh came from behind her. When she glanced behind her, Macon was crouched and ruffling his fur. "Good job, old boy." His voice was a soft whisper.

When he stood and walked over to her, he laid his hand on her shoulder. She shivered at the touch. "Uncle M?"

She turned her head to meet his eyes. "Yes, Lena?"

"What did you do, in the Arclight?" His eyes narrowed slightly.

"I rethought most of my views on life." She nodded. "Lena, I don't understand-" She pushed a finger against his lips and kissed his cheek.

"It doesn't matter." His brow furrowed. He was about to ask another question. "I visited your grave. I could have sworn you were there." It was a partial lie, but something more sane that seeing him in the middle of a storm.

"I wasn't _there_, Lena. I'm sorry if I didn't hear you." She looked away for a moment.

"What were the chances it was going to be you?" He squinted a bit.

"It was inevitable, Lena, as pointless to resist as loving you."

"Thank you."

He huffed softly. "For what?" _For keeping your promise._ She allowed a tear to slip down her cheek.

"For coming back."


End file.
